It was just Lech, Ori, Dal, and I making our way through the grungiest sector in all of Bainbridge—Old Japan Town. The others split off from us once we emerged from the tunnels into the drylands on the outskirts of NorCoast. While I was sad to see them go, there was no need for them. A Memory Visit wasn’t a large-group activity. Besides, ten armed warriors in the city would have brought unwanted attention. The four of us were already calling too much attention to ourselves as it was. Lech’s size and ferocity made every head do a double-take. There was a benefit to Lech’s imposing figure, though, in a place like this. I remembered the time Evin and I were attacked in Cadero after my third attempt at an underground Memory Visit, and I appreciated the intimidation factor.
Old Japan Town had been hit pretty hard during the Second Civil War. Unlike other parts of the city, where refurbished buildings or shiny new blue domes cropped up to house government agencies and random commercial enterprises, the condemned buildings of Japan Town had been abandoned to drug-dealers and prostitutes. It became the red light district of Bainbridge that made the rest of Bainbridge look like twenty-first century Beverly Hills. It didn’t surprise me, then, that this was where Ori brought us to meet up with her connection. In order to take a Memory Visit off the grid, you had to find the sketchiest places where LEOs were scarce. I imagined that a LEO hadn’t stepped foot in Old Japan Town for a good twenty years.
As we walked along, I tried to figure out what was going on with everyone. No one was talking, not even Dal and Ori. On our journey into NorCoast, Lech had been quiet and distant, definitely not his usual flirty self. I wasn’t complaining. I needed sleep when he left me alone in the tunnels, and I needed to focus now that we were getting close to the Memory Visit. Perhaps he recognized that.
As for Dal and Ori, I was puzzled. Dal seemed to be irritated about something. They were in an intense conversation on the first roof-top train ride out of Oasis. I was too busy hanging on for dear life to pay too much attention to them, but neither looked happy. After that, they stopped talking to each other altogether. Dal jogged with me through the remaining tunnels and sat by me on the train roofs, not saying a word. Every once in a while, I caught him glaring at Ori. What was up? I tried to ask, but he brushed me off. I didn’t push it.
As we walked the final few blocks to the destination, I was glad for the quiet. I needed to concentrate. I played the assassination scenario over and over in my head. I’d jump up from my seat in the third row of fifth graders, run at Petrov as fast as my little legs could carry me, and push him over the wall. My biggest worry was that he would grab me as he fell. Wouldn’t that be his first instinct? I didn’t want to become a casualty of my own Memory Visit.
“I can’t be a part of this,” Dal said out of nowhere.
“Dal!” Ori said.
“I can’t support this,” he said. “Rain, I’m sorry. I know you think you’re doing it for the right reasons, but you’re making a huge mistake.”
“What? Why?” I said. I’d never seen Dal look so miserable, except for the day Ori walked away from him. He stared at me with a desperate mixture of fear and anger. Was Dal mad at me?
“You’re going to ruin your life, that’s why,” Dal said. “I’ve held my tongue since I first heard the plan. I figured, it’s your life, do what you want with it, but it affects me, too. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I can’t stand by and let you…” Dal couldn’t finish his sentence. He kicked the crumbling wall behind him and bent his head in a posture of defeat.
“It’s not your decision,” Ori said.
“Calm down, man,” Lech said. It looked like he was about to place a hand on Dal’s shoulder but thought better of it. “Rain can do this.”
“I can do this,” I said as further reassurance. I couldn’t understand why Dal was so upset, unless he had the same worry I had about hurtling off the school’s roof with Petrov.
“I know you can do this,” Dal said. “You can kill Petrov, and then nothing will be the same.”
“Right,” I said, still confused. “Things will be better. WaterPure will stop hunting us, you’ll be safe, Ori and Lech will stop attacking guard towers, outcasts will live peacefully.” I was desperate to erase the disturbance in Dal’s eyes. “And if that’s not enough for you, Evin will be alive.” Dal’s pained expression didn’t change.
“But where will you be?” he said softly and slowly.
“What do you mean? I’ll be…” I thought for a minute. Where would I be? Of all the ways I visualized the killing of Petrov, I never imagined the aftermath. I was so concerned about getting the job done without dying, I never stopped to think about what would happen to me if I survived.
It was impossible to predict how a Memory Visit would change the future, but I could make an educated guess. If I killed a man, even as a child, the entire trajectory of my life would change. I would no longer be one of the elite students at my school. I would be a freak—the girl who shoved Asov Petrov over a wall, the girl who killed a WaterPure executive. They’d probably place me in some sort of institution for the mentally unstable. I’d have no education, no WaterPure internship. I’d be locked away somewhere, losing touch with my friends and family, and most importantly, with Dal and Evin.
Worst of all, my child self would have no memory of the Visit. She wouldn’t know what she had done until someone told her. She’d have the guilt of killing without the knowledge that it was justified. My God. I’d be like all the other re-Marks working for WaterPure. Empty shells of human beings trying futilely to find a reason for the blood on their hands. This was a torture worse than death.
Dal gazed at me with frustration. Ori looked frustrated, too, but probably not for the same reason.
“I told you she hadn’t thought this through,” Lech said to Ori. God, even Lech knew what I was setting myself up for. His eyes were full of pity. Was this why he had stopped coming on to me, because he pitied me?
“Of course she didn’t think it through!” Dal said bitterly. “She never thinks of herself.” He did not mean this as a compliment.
“Obviously you weren’t thinking of yourself, either, my man. Your future will be just as screwed,” Lech said. Our silence and guilty looks told Lech what he had probably already suspected. Dal’s future was secure. Lech’s head bobbed in understanding. He smiled. “So, Dal is not a Mark. I’m walking with a pack of liars. Whatever, I don’t care. I just want to know what we do now.”
“We keep walking,” I said, glancing at Ori, whose eyes widened in surprise. I guessed she didn’t expect me to carry through with the plan once I figured out how messed up it would make my life. “Where is this place?”
“We’re already here,” she said. We stood in front of a large steel door that appeared to have been installed rather recently. Above the door hung a rust-free metal sign that read, MASSAGES by Appointment Only. I was sure they offered more than just massages in a place like this.
“Great,” Dal said and kicked the wall again.
“I know this is hard, Dal,” Ori said. “But remember what we talked about.”
“What did you say to him, Ori? That the cause was worth more than my life?” I had every intention of going through with the assassination, but I wanted Ori to feel as much guilt about it as possible.
“Not exactly,” Ori said.
Dal shot her a keep-your-mouth-shut look, but she ignored it. “I just reminded Dal that once this Memory Visit was over, he wouldn’t remember any of it. He wouldn’t remember you as you are now. Whatever happens to you back then, whatever you become, will be the only reality he’s ever known. The only reality any of us will know.”
Cold. This was the Ori I knew so, so well. My life would be ruined, and the only thing that mattered to her was that no one but me would suffer for it. It didn’t matter, though. I was going to take the Visit. I couldn’t think of a more effective way to save Evin. I would never admit it to her face, but Ori was right. The end result was worth more than my future. I knew I couldn’t convince Dal of that, though. I had to try another tactic to set his mind at ease. I would have to lie.
“You need to have more confidence in me, Dal,” I said. “I have thought this through. I have a way to make it look like an accident.” The scowl on his face relaxed but didn’t disappear completely. I had to really play the part. With a wink and a smile, I added, “No one will ever suspect me.”
I quickly turned away from his scrutiny to open the steel door. Clinging to the possibility of making my white lie the truth, I entered the dilapidated building. Maybe, once I was in the middle of the Visit, I could find a way to make the assassination look like an accident. Maybe there was a way to come out of this unscathed.
While the outside of the building recalled scenes from an apocalypse, the inside brought to mind a surprisingly luxurious hotel lobby. Plush burgundy draperies covered the chipped walls. A crystal chandelier dangled from the water-stained ceiling. The click-clack of stiletto heels drew my attention past overstuffed silver sofas and polished end tables to the reception area in the back of the large foyer. A petite figure dressed in an indecently short red and black kimono glided toward us. Fuchsia lips shone on a stark white face. Dark brown eyes winged with liquid black eyeliner showed a growing recognition. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Haruhi. My spirits soared. Here was someone who could make my hopes become a reality.
“Darling,” she cooed. She stretched out her arms in welcome, but not for me. Ori brushed past me to clasp Haruhi’s small hands and allow her to kiss both powdered cheeks. The easy way they greeted each other left no doubt as to their being old acquaintances. Friendly acquaintances. In addition to shock, a twinge of jealousy tightened my shoulders. I had always thought of Haruhi as being special to me, like a secret friend. She had helped me clear up so much of my confusion surrounding my Memory Visits. She had helped Evin and me make an escape from LEOs at her clinic. She was, literally, a lifesaver. I often thought of her, in a way, as my eccentric guardian angel. To have her interacting with Ori like they were old friends made me want to reassess everything I thought I knew and felt about Haruhi. About Ori, too.
Haruhi turned to me and laughed good-naturedly. “Close your mouth, Rain,” she said. “You should be used to the world being full of surprises.” She looked intently into my eyes. Her face grew serious. “Please don’t think I’m laughing at you. You deserve nothing less than my admiration and respect. In fact, you deserve everyone’s respect. You are making a brave sacrifice for us all.”
She pressed the palms of her hands together and bowed deeply and sincerely. My jealousy faded as embarrassment flushed my cheeks. I hoped I could live up to her expectations. I also hoped my sacrifice might not be as big as they all thought. Was it wrong to want to save the day without ruining my life for it?
Haruhi grabbed my hand, and with a motherly smile, led me back to an inner room. I hoped to see Donald and Herbert, but no such luck. Instead of the bald and burly tattooed assistants she had in Cadero, two slender, graceful women dressed as geishas attended to the equipment. They took this massage parlor cover very seriously.
Haruhi motioned to the standard dentist chair that all Memory Visit clinics seemed to have. The metal pronged helmet above the headrest made my stomach a little sick. I sat down and gripped the arms of the chair until my fingers tingled. My hands were as sweaty as they had been when I approached the LEOs’ van outside of Segura’s camp.
Haruhi sidled up to Lech while her assistants readied the computer in the back. “Well, well. How did I miss meeting you, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome?” She amazed me with her ability to switch in and out of character. “My name’s Haruhi,” she purred. “I’d be happy to show you around later. Unlike this room, we have others that provide more privacy, if you know what I mean.”
Haruhi was literally half Lech’s size and twice his age, yet she played the seductress well. While his face expressed a call for help, I could tell he loved the attention. She had seen Lech when we entered the building, but like a trick card, she kept him in her back pocket until she really needed him. Now was the perfect time to make him the object of her amorous intentions in order to ease the tension in the room. I appreciated the effort. It wasn’t quite working, though.
Haruhi took a break from Lech to fit the helmet to my head. “You always bring me the most delicious friends,” she said.
“How do you know Ori?” I asked loud enough for only Haruhi to hear me.
Her expression grew serious. “We’re old friends,” she said.
I wasn’t dissuaded by her vague response. I had an urgent need to know the answer.
“How do you know her?” I asked again.
Haruhi glanced over her shoulder at Ori. “She should be the one to answer that question.”
“Okay, so you won’t answer that, but will you answer this—is Ori a Mark?”
Haruhi studied my face and gave me a tender smile. “No. Now get ready. Find the moment in the memory that you want to return to.”
I took a last look at the faces staring back at me. A cloud seemed to descend on the room. Or, maybe I was projecting my own feelings onto the group. Lech’s eyes, hidden under a stern expression, looked like those of a sad puppy. Ori had a pained expression on her face, too, which didn’t really make sense since I was doing what she wanted. Dal stared at the ground. He wouldn’t meet my gaze. Even Haruhi’s smile faded as she tightened the screws that held the helmet in place.
I lost all semblance of the confidence that I’d faked for Dal’s sake just moments ago. I suddenly felt empty and alone. My eyes welled up as all I could think about was Evin. I’d been so lost since he died, but never as lost as I felt at this moment. I couldn’t find solace in the fact that I was bringing him back to life. Once he had his life back, chances were he would have no place in mine, whatever that turned out to be.
“Are you ready?” Haruhi asked softly. “Here we go. Close your eyes and concentrate. Remember, you’ve only got fifteen minutes.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “One evil man for thousands of good ones.”
Had she read my mind? She knew exactly what I needed to hear. I reminded myself of all of the deaths, all of the torture, all of the suffering. The re-Marks. The victims of the re-Marks. The outcasts. If I was going to do this, I’d have to get angry. I summoned each victim’s face to my mind, causing the anger to build. Dal. Dr. Hanson. Louise. Tyria. My father. Evin. My heart pounded in my chest. My jaw clenched. My fingers dug into the armrests. When rage overcame all other emotions, I closed my eyes and cleared my mind of everything but Azov Petrov’s face.
****
So much chirping. It seems that every little bird in the neighborhood has alighted on the roof garden of my primary school. The early-afternoon sun warms the skin on my arms, but the smell of rain is drifting in on the breeze. Behind the temporary stage erected for the assembly, storm clouds are gathering. I see Dal, his bright blond hair giving him away in the front row. On the stage directly in front of Dal sits Petrov, erect and alert, waiting for his introduction.
Students file in behind my row. A small group of restless sixth-graders, directed by a couple of nervous parent volunteers, take their seats in the grass. An even smaller group of unchaperoned seventh-graders, a little more rambunctious than the rest of us, joins the gathering. The seventh-grade teachers have stayed behind with the rest of their classes. This assembly is reserved for the top students only.
A small, frail seventh-grade girl with long brown hair catches my eye two rows behind me. Her face is serious. While the others around her start throwing clumps of grass at each other, she remains motionless, staring straight ahead at the stage. I’ve never spoken to this girl—she is two classes above me, after all—but I feel like I know her. The color of her hair, the shape of her face, the expression in her eyes. A strand of hair blows across her nose. She sweeps it behind her ear with one graceful motion, a motion I’ve seen before with a long brown braid. Unbelievable. Ori is in my primary school. I’ve never stopped to think about where she comes from, what her background is, who her parents are. Seeing her here creates more questions than answers, though. I wonder if she knows who I am?
Clapping erupts around me. Petrov has been introduced and is approaching the lectern. Luckily for me, he is a short, thin man. Even luckier, the wall reaches to a height just level with the back of his knees. Perfect. If I can work my way out into the aisle, I’ll have a straight shot. The stairs to the stage will slow me down, so I’ll need to get on the stage first before making my move. Maybe if I hit him from a side angle, I’ll have the element of surprise. I don’t want him bracing himself or, worse yet, dodging me.
I look around for any adults who might stop me from reaching the stage. The fifth- and sixth-grade teachers, plus a couple of parent volunteers stand in a row in the back, whispering to each other. They pose no threat because the kids sitting in the grass behind me form the perfect barricade. To mild protests, I crawl over the legs of five of my classmates, forging a path to the aisle. A few heads turn in the row in front of us. One student gives me a nasty look and a quick hush. I sit at the end of the row for a few seconds to let the commotion die down and the attention to return to Petrov’s speech. I’m only a few meters from the stage. This is it. Once I start, there will be no turning back. I picture Evin, the reason I’m doing this.
“Are there any questions?” Petrov asks the crowd.
“I have one,” a small voice rises from the row of seventh-graders. All eyes focus on Ori as she stands to be recognized. “If I go to work for you,” she says, addressing Petrov. “I can help make fresh water from seawater so people can water their lawns and fill up their pools and stuff, right?”
“Yes,” says Petrov, smiling at the big brown eyes staring up at him. “But don’t forget about WaterPure’s role in making drinking water for our neighbors down south, the people of NorCoast. They need the water more than we do.”
“They do,” says Ori. “And the people in the drylands need it even more. What about them?” The crowd gasps. Petrov’s tight smile quivers a bit at the edges. No student in a reputable Oasis school would ever dream about giving aid to outcasts.
This is my chance. The crowd is so stunned by Ori’s comment they won’t see me. I get into a crouching position, like a runner at her starting blocks. Asov Petrov is the finish line.
“I think the young lady has a big heart,” Petrov says with a sneer. “She must have if she actually thinks the outcasts, a bunch of degenerate criminals, are worth a drop of water from us.”
“They’re not criminals,” Ori shouts. “Their ancestors used to be farmers. It’s not their fault their people weren’t inside the walls when the War broke out.”
I scramble to the base of the stage. A few students in the front row see me, but they don’t seem to be registering the strangeness of my presence. Except for Dal. He stares at me with wide eyes. I know that no matter what happens with Ori, Dal will have his attention on me from here on out. I have to ignore him if I’m going to get this done.
“Teachers,” Petrov addresses the adults in the back of the crowd. “I think you need to re-teach your history lessons. This young lady has some misconceptions about the outcasts. In fact, why don’t you begin a lesson for her back in the classroom right now?”
All heads but Dal’s turn toward Ori, whose voice rises in protest. Teachers’ voices join in, some reprimanding, some pleading, as they try to escort her from the assembly. This is the perfect distraction for what I have to do.
I tune out the noise and Dal’s stare as I climb the stairs to the stage. Petrov, absorbed in the increasing commotion in the back of the crowd, doesn’t see me as I stand just two meters to his left. I need more space to build momentum. I back up quickly to increase the distance between us. I know I’m running out of time. I have to do this now. I take a deep breath, ball my fists, grit my teeth, and…
“What do you think you’re doing?” An appalled voice booms in my ears. Hands grab my shoulders from behind. I don’t have time for this. I twist my shoulders out of her grasp, but her right hand latches on to one of my flailing arms. In a panic, I swing around to karate chop her elbow and kick at her shins, but the woman has my arm in a death grip. Her left hand grabs my other arm. I twist and squirm to no avail.
“Ouch! Settle down!” the woman shouts. “Why are you acting like this?”
I can feel the stares that were once on Ori settling on me instead. I’ve drawn too much attention to myself. There is absolutely no way I can do this unseen or make it look like an accident. Moreover, the chances of success lessen with every second. I make one last desperate attempt to break free. I lower my head and ram it straight into the woman’s paunchy belly. There’s an oomph as I make contact with her diaphragm. She loses her grip, stumbles backward, trips over a potted plant, and falls hard on her right side. I stare down at the long auburn bob, the watery pin-cushion eyes squinting in pain. Mrs. Munroe.
“Mom!” Mrs. Munroe’s son, George, rushes the stage. When she signed up to volunteer for his seventh-grade class, I bet she never anticipated being attacked by a little girl, her neighbor none the less. I feel a fleeting sense of satisfaction at injuring the woman who shot Evin.
“What the hell did you do to my mom?” George shouts. Dal has already jumped onto the stage to insert himself between George and me in a protective stance. His thin, pale arms stretch out toward George, palms turned upward, signaling stop. Others have joined us on the stage, hovering over Mrs. Munroe, trying to help her to her feet.
“I think my arm is broken,” Mrs. Munroe cries in anguish. She clasps the painful appendage to her chest. A giant drop of rain lands on my nose, startling me out of my reverie. Time is running out.
I turn back to Petrov, who is standing behind the lectern as if he were still giving his speech. I push off on the balls of my feet to accelerate toward him, focusing on his eyes that are wide with confusion. Dal calls my name just as my vision of this memory goes black.
****